


Feral

by KaiserinAstraia



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Antiform!Sora, Canon Universe, Dream Eater Riku (Kingdom Hearts), Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-DDD, pre-KH3, spoiler free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiserinAstraia/pseuds/KaiserinAstraia
Summary: It was so wrong, that Riku looked forward to this every night. It was sosick, that as soon as he felt the rush of pain from the symbol on his back that hurled him from sleep, Riku couldn’t help but grin — even though he knew Sora must feel that same pain or worse. He knew that he should stop coming to calm Anti-Sora and let morning send the darkness away. But Riku couldn’t — wouldn’t — stop. Sora needed him. Riku would always protect him from the darkness, no matter how torturous it was to accomplish.





	Feral

 

 

It always began with an itch. 

It prickled and crawled under Riku’s skin like a swarm of agitated insects, taking every nerve his upper back had with no mercy. This maddening sensation would send anyone into a frenzy to scratch, to satiate the itch, but for Riku – it simply woke him up. It sent him out of sleep  as if he had fallen out of the sky, plummeting to his bed at light-speed. He barely felt the too-stiff mattress or the sheets in disarray before he was out of them, scrambling on the floor to find his— pants? shirt? something, where were they—  

A wave of searing heat overcame the itch, and Riku gasped, shoulder blades tensing involuntarily. But he didn't touch it — didn't rush to a mirror to see what was there, didn't do anything but steady himself. He knew what he’d find if he ran to investigate; an intricate sigil of a heart with two curves on either side, and the tip extending down to a rounded base. Most the time, it looked like a well-done tattoo, the sunset orange to pink gradient too perfect within the sleek, even black outline. But it was no tattoo — it was a signal fire. A fire, because, oh, when it triggered, it  _ burned _ . The orange glow of it let Riku see enough of the floor to find the small pile of clothes he’d made before collapsing into bed only hours before, but the waves of  _ rage  _ and  _ fear _ that accompanied the fiery light made his breath ragged as he had to force his eyes shut and swallow it down. 

He’d have to make  do with only pants, then.  

Racing like he was trying to outrun death, he flung himself out  of  his bedroom door, heels skidding across the floor. He winced at the corridor light of the Mysterious Tower, eyes bleary and accustomed to sleep. He didn't even bother closing the door behind him — he had nothing to hide in his small room anyway — and instead zeroed in on his destination: Sora’s door, just across the hall.  

Unlike Riku, Sora kept it locked, but Riku could feel the agitation and pain mounting with the mark to surge again. Long past knocking, Riku summoned the Way to Dawn and unlocked  the door , only sparing time enough for the smallest breath of air to brace himself before he was inside.  

It was dark. Riku’s eyes, now in between adjusted and unadjusted, struggled to even see furniture shapes, but he looked anyway. The door clicked closed behind him, and all he had was a tiny window’s worth of light, only a measly crescent moon visible through it. From what he could tell, everything was in its usual place — except Sora. His bed held a tightly wound ball of sheets, while his pillow had been flung to the end, but no Sora. Riku looked in the corners of the room, searched the walls, checked the ceiling, even. 

Where was he?  

Riku took a breath to call his name when he felt the sigil release what it had been trying to hold — and oh god, it was  _ scorching; _ the raw panic, the acute fear, the  _ abandonment _ lurching in his gut. If he weren't more accustomed to the strange effects of the mark, he would have likely lost his dinner right then and there. He pushed it all down again, swallowing carefully, mouth salivating from the effort.  

But then, to his left, he heard a guttural growl, secretive and frustrated — coming from under the bed. Well, that was a new spot. Riku tilted his head toward the sound, considering. Something was breathing heavily in the corner. Wiping his bangs to the side, he leaned down until he was in a half-push-up and rested most his weight on his arms, ready to spring up just in case. He peered under the metal frame of the bed, eyes tuned for a pair of yellowish orb-like eyes.  

There they were,  fortuitously  bright and wide, waiting. If Riku hadn’t been looking for them, he’d be terrified under that unblinking, eerily still gaze. But he knew; under the shroud of misty darkness, past the cat-like, glowing stare, and beyond the claws and animalistic growls was Sora, asleep. 

“There you are,” he muttered, mostly to himself, because he knew Sora wouldn’t respond. Instead, Sora growled again, a cautious trill that conveyed curiosity and warning. But Riku didn’t move — he needed to get Sora out from under there, if he was going to goad him out of this state.  

They just stared at each other for a solid minute. Riku thought about baiting Sora into striking, and Riku could grab him, but Sora rarely missed and there wasn't a whole lot of space for error. Maybe he could fake a kick, and Sora would latch on? Or maybe he could—  

Another wave of pain — of frustration, of despair, of devastated loss — swept over them, and Sora groaned again, twisting like a tortured animal.  

Riku winced, but only allowed himself to pant, refocusing back on Sora’s arm, now in reach from his squirming. Tilting to his side, he reached out to grab his friend’s wrist, but he wasn't quick enough. Swift like a cat, Sora’s other arm swung out in a wide swipe, his hands completely engulfed in darkness and fingers sharpened into black claws.  _ Tsk _ -ing, Riku narrowly dodged the hit.  

Sora replied with a hiss, which Riku luckily knew to translate to mere annoyance. He was like an animal with a thorn in its paw; content to nurse the wound even while Riku had tweezers and  _ literal curative magic _ .  

Sighing, Riku eyed the bed again. He could probably just flip it. But he knew the second he did, Sora would go ballistic and likely attack the other furniture — and Riku, of course. But what  _ else  _ could he— 

The air was knocked out of Riku’s lungs as Sora lunged at him, emerging from under the bed at a frightening speed. Riku couldn’t feel anything except the sharp pain in his shoulders as Sora’s claws dug in, and as his shoulder blades hit the hard wood floor below them. But he wasn’t a Keyblade Master for nothing, and quickly rolled and pushed Sora off of him. 

In an instant, Riku was back on his feet, defensively standing in front of Sora who was on all fours, eying him carefully.  

The first time this had happened, Riku was terrified — of the pain they both felt, of the darkness that enshrouded his best friend who was always so full of light, of Sora’s feral behavior. He thought Xehanort must have done something to him. He didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing he could think of : calm him.  

It was harder than it looked. 

Right on cue, Sora leapt up and began his onslaught of attacks. Every swipe, every growl, every kick screamed  _ fear _ , screamed  _ outrage _ , like an animal cornered. Though Sora was anything  _ but,  _ whatever was in his dream still held Sora captive, kept him fighting and screaming and striving and searching. Kept him desperate. Riku felt heavy like an anchor, felt like the black organization coat was still weighing on his shoulders and the blindfold still resolving him to hold the darkness in. The feelings were so strong that Riku struggled to hold his own against the despair. It was only his determination to expel the nightmare, to purge Sora of this darkness that forced these feelings on him, that kept him sane.  

Sora was relentless, just as he was when awake. Riku was glad he  had gone without his shirt, because Sora’s sharp fingers would have undoubtably turned it into ribbons by now. If Riku were honest, he’d admit that avoiding Sora’s attacks  was tiring him. Normally, Sora would have slowed down by now, and Riku would have been able to get closer to him safely. But after countless nights in a row that Riku had been woken to this situation, interrupting his sleep and engaging him in full-fledged combat, Riku’s prowess was finally beginning to wane. 

Sora managed to swipe Riku’s shoulder, three angry red welts forming in his wake. It stung, but Riku rolled the shoulder as if to take the pain and knock it away. Deliriously, he wished he had a wooden sword for self-defense, the kind they had played with as children on the Islands. The thought came with an onslaught of memories that he, in his exhaustion, couldn’t focus away from. 

To punish Riku again for his distraction, Sora swiped at Riku again, toward the stomach, but it was weak. Sora hadn't been trying to hurt him; Riku knew because he hadn't drawn blood. It was almost like a question: “hey, are you still fighting me?” 

“You just want to play around, now, huh?” Riku said, wryly, but then he sighed in relief. The tension in the air had shifted into a lazy buzz. Sora made some sound — maybe it was in agreement, or just in acknowledgment that he was being taunted — and lunged again, swiping at the air as he closed in toward Riku. Instinctively, Riku summoned the Way to Dawn — god, he really was tired, mindlessly summoning it just because he had been thinking about swords — blocking Sora’s attack. He pushed back, and Sora flew back onto his feet. They stood opposing each other in a familiar stand-off, but Sora knew not to give Riku a moment’s reprieve. He charged again, though standing now instead of on all fours. He was a little hunched, but he raised up once he was close, trying to avoid Riku’s Keyblade. Sora jumped up and successfully latched himself onto Riku before Riku could even blink, and they teetered in place. 

“H-hey!” Riku said, twirling to regain balance, “that’s not…” he tried to pry Sora off him, but Sora had wrapped his legs around him tightly, “fair!” God, his back was  _ itching _ , made worse by Sora’s sharp heels digging into his back but, he couldn’t stop  _ smiling  _ like he  _ wasn’t  _ fighting a darkness that had taken over his best friend. “Sora—” he said, finally prying him off by wedging his Keyblade between them. 

Sora tumbled less than gracefully, and sure was lazy to get up this time. The darkness that encased him like a shroud had lifted slightly, as well — Riku could see Sora’s face through it like a sheer curtain. Sora’s eyes, under the orange lights, were still closed. 

He also wore a grin. 

_ His dream must be shifting _ , Riku realized. Finally.  

Those bright, orange eyes gazed at Riku’s blade, head tilting to the side. One of his hands, still emanating darkness like steam, raised up in front of him. Riku practically held his breath, found himself  _ hoping  _ that  _ this time—  _

A Keyblade materialized in his grip, but it was also covered in and emanating darkness. Riku felt a rush of adrenaline, like he had never been tired at all. Sora must have felt it, too, because he made a chattering sound, almost like laughter. In a flash, their Keyblades struck, sparks of light dancing off the shaft of Riku’s blade when they connected. Riku grinned again, the force behind Sora’s slash enough to make Riku grunt in the effort to hold his ground. Sora wasn’t holding back. It was like before — before Riku ruined everything.  

Sora sprang up, feet planting against the wall. In a blink, he launched off, Keyblade ready to swipe. Riku was extremely glad for the enchanted, silent walls as he rushed to meet that blade. The screech of metal on metal was grating but welcome and familiar at this point.  

They were evenly matched, blocking and attacking and slashing and spinning about the room. If Riku closed his eyes, he could see the platform that held the paopu tree on Destiny Islands, feel ocean breeze in his hair and the sand grit in the grooves of his shoes as he played and fought with Sora — when things were simple and easy. Riku could pretend they were there until Sora and the darkness controlling him finally tired. 

Like so many nights before, that moment arrived. Sora  whaled on Riku’s Keyblade, striking again and again as Riku resolutely guarded, until eventually Sora stopped, literally dropping the blade with a loud clatter on the ground. In a near-Sora gesture, Sora plopped sullenly on the bed, arms dangling between his legs in defeat.  

He looked like a reprimanded puppy. “Pfft—” Riku couldn't help but laugh, the adrenaline and  _ fun _ still swimming in his head and hummingbird heart. “Done, now?”  

The darkness dimmed a shade,  until all of Sora, still slumbering, was visible. It was like he was a bonfire put out, the steam wispy off his skin. Riku wiped the sweat from his brow and sat next to him on the bed, catching his breath.  

Sora made a small chattering sound again before pouncing  on  Riku, but Riku wasn't defensive this time. Sora curled into and pushed his face into Riku’s chest as much as he could — like a cat determined to place its scent on the human it owned. It wasn't too far off, and wasn't the first time, so Riku just let it happen. With a sobering drop of guilt, Riku wistfully wished that the possessiveness the darkness portrayed originated from the person it was controlling — even if just a little.  

Sora settled with clinging to Riku’s side, one claw gripping near threateningly on his side and the other curled between them. Sora watched him carefully, like Riku would try to leave at any moment. Riku just stared back, completely silent and still, reassuring the dark Sora that he understood.  

The darkness was struggling to keep its hold. The orange eyes were dimming, his claws softening and dulling. The nightmare must be over — he wondered what Sora was dreaming about now. There was no way to tell other than Sora’s soft smile, still lingering from their spar.  

This was the worst part, and the best. Sora would never do this on his own. It was only because Riku had befriended (was that even the right word? Friend?) Sora’s feral form that it had come to this, and yet… he couldn't stop staring as Sora’s precious, soft slumbering face and dream, no, fantasize a different context as to why Sora rested in his arms.  

It was so wrong, that he looked forward to this every night. It was so  _ sick _ , that as soon as he felt the rush of pain that hurled him from sleep, Riku couldn’t help but grin — even though he knew Sora must feel that same pain or worse. Riku couldn’t help but ascend to cloud-nine when the darkened Sora coerced them into this selfish, self-indulgent position. He knew that as soon as he felt these things, he should put distance between them, and stop coming to calm Sora and let morning do the job. But Riku couldn’t —  _ wouldn’t —  _ stop. Sora needed him. Riku would always protect him from the darkness, no matter how torturous it was to accomplish. 

Riku blinked wearily down at Sora when he shifted, the soft  jabbering  of dark Sora sounding more and more like snores. It was late. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sora’s digital clock on the dresser, the red letters blaring 3:23 AM. Behind it was a huge mirror too, and with absolute embarrassment Riku saw that , next to Sora’s candle-like eyes, Riku’s glowed pink, like his Komory Bat in the Sleeping Worlds.  

He decided to stare at the ceiling and wait for the darkness to completely fade from his friend. It should only be a few more minutes now, and then Riku could slip away back to his room without waking him. The only problem was, with nothing to look at, he could feel Sora’s deep, soft breaths floating against his skin, the warmth of his hand in the dip of his waist. God, Sora could never know about this. It would ruin everything. But damn if it didn't make Riku feel so utterly guilty, feel like he was taking advantage of Sora while he was vulnerable.  

Sora gripped a little tighter and started softly snoring. Riku thought it'd help him stay awake, but it was so rhythmic and hypnotic, he couldn't keep his eyes open. _ Just a few more minutes… _ he thought,  _ and Sora will be back to normal. Just a few more minutes….  _

_ Just a few more minutes _ , he bargained with himself, a thought drowsily bubbling up about how Sora was holding  on too tightly  for him  to move anyway.  _ Too  _ _ warm to leave… Just a few more… _

And he slipped into sleep. 

* * *

_ Riku… _

It only registered as a blip of disturbance across the edges of Riku’s consciousness, but he knew someone had called his name. Like a small ripple in a calm pond, his thoughts were loose and weak as he wondered who  had  called. Sora? Mm, maybe, probably — maybe it was time for breakfast. He wasn’t awake to smell the cooking, nor hungry enough to be tempted. Riku was so tired… His eyes were too heavy to open, and his mind was already constructing a path for Riku to lose himself in. Just a few more minutes…  

_ Riiiiku _ . 

“Mm,” Riku weakly protested. He attempted to turn to his side, one hand grabbing a fistful of sheet to pull up, except— huh, he couldn't. His side was held down by a foreign weight, and it was really warm, and— oh, his arm was  _ super _ asleep. The limb was cold and he couldn’t move it even when he tried. That was new. The static  he  felt in his arm traveled like a haze back into his mind, where a dream began to form again—  

“Riku,” Sora called again, this time poking his cheek with his finger. The weight on Riku’s side shifted a little.  

Riku’s eyes flew open.  

“Ah, Riku!” Sora cheered, tilting his head sweetly. “Woah, your eyes are —” Riku blinked tiredly, eyelids fighting to stay closed. “Oh, never mind.”  

There Sora was, right where Riku had left him the night before; curled up against his side, his ridiculous bed-head brushing against his shoulder where he’d slept. Sora had a trail of dried drool from the corner of his mouth, and yet he smiled unaware and glowed like the morning sun. It felt like a dream, but it couldn’t be. Something wasn’t right here. He wasn’t supposed to _be_ here. But— Riku hadn’t… gone back to his room last night?  

No, he’d fallen asleep. 

“S-Sora!” Riku said, sitting up rapidly. Sora had barely pulled away before Riku slipped his asleep arm out from under him, feeling a rush of blood enter the limp limb as soon as Sora’s weight wasn’t on it. “I’m, I’m so sorry,” he rushed to say. Forget his arm getting blood; surely none of it was left now that it was all rushing to his face. This was no dream; he looked down and saw the couple of scratches Sora  had  managed to land last night, and Riku’s shirtlessness.  

“Sorry…?” Sora said slowly, rising on one arm. “Um… sorry for what?” 

The immediate list that he thought was too long and overwhelming to say, but the second was just as mortifying: for  _ playing _ with the darkness controlling Sora, for sleeping with him in his bed, for holding this secret so long, for Riku’s pounding heart and stomach full of butterflies created simply by being near his best friend. He couldn’t tell Sora any of these things. Riku was still reeling from the abrupt awakening and couldn’t even trust his lungs to allow him to speak properly. 

When Riku stared in stunned silence and didn’t respond, Sora started, “Is something… wrong…?” Sora gazed about the room slowly as he spoke. It was still a disaster. Sora’s pillow was on his dresser, the knickknacks that belonged there scattered on the floor where they had fallen . Even the chair that was supposed to be in the corner had been flung to the front of the room.  Papers littered the floor like they had been thrust in a whirlwind. It was horrifying the longer Riku looked, as the desensitization wore off and he remembered that he always put things back the way they were before he left.   

Sora’s expression morphed into a mix of shocked and devastated. Before Riku could make up some explanation, Sora turned back to Riku and grabbed his hands. Sora’s were shaking. Riku flinched at the touch, taken off-guard. Increasingly disturbed, Sora lessened his grip hesitantly before squeezing again, staring pleadingly into Riku’s eyes. “Riku, are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” 

“Wh-What—?”  

Sora’s eyes zeroed in on the angry, pink spots in the dip between his shoulders and collar bones, and then to the scratch on his shoulder. Riku suppressed a wince as Sora grabbed his arm to inspect the injury. “Oh no…” he whispered mournfully, then said, voice trembling, “Riku, I’m so sorry.”  

“Sora, it’s—” 

“I’m sorry,” Sora said again, like he hadn’t heard Riku speak at all. Sora pulled his hands away, drawing into himself and  staring  tensely down at his bed. Rubbing his arm to comfort himself, but failing, he said, voice slowly reaching higher and higher in panic, “Shit, I must’ve forgotten to lock the door, I— Or, no, I  _ remember _ ,  but— Riku, I’m so sorry, I thought I wasn’t transforming anymore; I was having nightmares again but I didn’t think it was this bad,  _ shit  _ I— I'm really,  _ really _ sorry Riku,” Sora reiterated, so sincere and near tearful that it  _ ached. _ “I never  _ ever  _ wanted to hurt  _ you, _ ” he whispered.  

Riku’s stomach dropped like an anchor in the ocean, or like he’d been punched in the gut. He couldn’t stand to see Sora so upset, to see Sora recoiling like he was  _ afraid.  _ “Sora,” Riku called, taking back Sora’s hand gently but insistently, “you didn’t do anything wrong;  _ I _ unlocked your door to come help when I felt the mark.” 

Sora stared up at him with wide, watery, beautiful blue eyes and Riku couldn’t shut up, couldn’t stop until those tears stopped threatening to fall. “You transform in your sleep — it’s the darkness, manipulating you. You can’t help that. It’s not your fault.” 

As Riku explained, Sora’s brows knit together as he listened. His expression settled on hesitant and confused, looking between his lap where their hands rested and Riku nervously. Riku released him and  held his arms outstretched . “Look, see, I’m fine. You didn’t even break skin.” He couldn’t really see the red spots above his collar bones, but he knew they were there from experience. He also knew they’d be gone with just a small potion. He shrugged as if that proved the insignificance of his wounds. “Besides, there’ve been worse nights. You were mostly just playing around this time.”  

Finally, Riku was able to shut his incriminat ing  mouth. He watched and waited for any sort of reaction. Sora was frozen in place, staring at Riku’s scratches and then at his face, seeing that he was serious. Finally, Sora replied, voice wavering, “This time?” 

_ Shit _ , Riku thought,  _ shit, shit _ . “I— yeah. Err. Only a… couple times?” he said, slowly, rounding down generously. 

Sora detected the lie instantly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Riku didn’t know why he bothered to try — he couldn’t fool Sora. “Riku, tell me the truth; when did this start?” 

Riku sighed. “Since… since you came back from our test,” he admitted. Sora’s face fell and Riku’s heart similarly felt like a deflated balloon. “But listen, I—” Riku scrambled for a way to rephrase, “ _ I want to protect you. It’s all that matters to me. _ ” He exhaled, speaking slower but  still gently, “I don’t mind it, Sora. I’ll always be here when you need me.” 

Sora stared back, and Riku could almost see the cogs spinning in his mind. “You… make me transform back, while I’m asleep?” he asked. Riku nodded. “And your mark… tells you when it happens?” Riku nodded again, feeling self-conscious about being shirtless again. Though Sora knew about the mark Riku had, he’d only seen it a few times. Neither of them  _ really _ knew what it meant, other than that Riku was some sort of Dreameater. Riku had other suspicions (about  _ whose _ Dreameater he was—), but let the explanations stay simple. It allowed him to avoid mentioning all that the mark did. 

Sora slowly nodded back, accepting the facts presented to him. That was always something Riku admired about Sora – he rolled with the punches. Eventually, Sora’s tense shoulders relaxed, expression softening into a ghost of a smile. “That’s… kinda cool,” he said, attempting to joke. “You’re like… a super Dreameater.” 

Riku frowned, feeling the tips of his ears warm, but he had no rebuttal to Sora’s assessment. It didn’t matter anyway, because Sora continued with renewed conviction, “But Riku… this has  _ got _ to be exhausting you — doing this for me almost every night.” Riku winced at ‘ _ every night _ ’, even though it was near accurate at this point. Sora’s transformations  had been increasing in frequency for weeks now. “I mean, last time, it took Donald and Goofy  _ hours  _ to get me out of it. And like, I’d been meaning to ask you about it for weeks now, but you look  _ tired. _ ” 

Riku  had  _ not _ expected this to turn around on him -- or to receive the mental image of Donald attempting to tame the ferociously playful dark Sora. Defensively, he grumbled, “I’m not tired.” Which was definitely the most juvenile thing Riku had said in at least a week — and a complete, utter lie. 

Sora snorted, something like a real Sora smile finally gracing his lips. “You fell asleep in practice yesterday, watching Kairi and Lea. Don’t deny it, I saw it.” 

“ _ Tsk _ ,” Riku replied instinctively. He rubbed the back of his head. Thinking  quickly  and haphazardly, he replied,  with  complete resolution, “Still — I won’t stop helping you come out of that… darkness. Locking your door isn’t going to be enough, and you’re in enough danger as is.”  _ Please, let me help you. _

Sora bit his lip, looking strangely… relieved. He looked at his sheets, drawing little circles in the cotton fabric. “Geez, so stubborn,” he said, but the chastising tone was weak. “Well, then… what do you think we should do…?” 

Riku thought about it. They could tell Master Yen Sid, but Riku doubted that he’d know how to stop the transformation from happening — and besides, Riku didn’t want to give the man another reason to yell at Sora like he was a failure when he wasn’t. Riku sighed. “Nothing, I guess. When you transform, I'll come to help like always.”  

It wasn’t a solution — Riku could tell by the look on Sora’s face. Sora rubbed the back of his head, unable to meet Riku’s eyes. “Then… why don't you just stay in here at night?” Sora asked, shyly looking up, “It'll be like a sleepover, or something.” He said it like he  _ hadn’t _ just turned Riku’s whole world upside-down. He faltered a little bit as he continued, flustered as he confessed, “A lot of my nightmares are like— like fighting, or being alone. So maybe if I’m not alone, I won’t have those nightmares and turn into the …thing?” 

Somehow, Riku  hadn’t imagined his nightmares would be so… simple. Riku wanted to know more —  _ who _ was he fighting, and  _ why  _ was he alone, and  _ why _ was it so easy for the darkness to take hold — but Sora wouldn’t meet his gaze and Riku knew to let it go. Sora would tell him in his own time. But for now…  

The entire concept of staying in Sora’s room was something straight out of a dream. Every part of his being screamed  _ yes _ , but how long could he keep hiding his feelings if they got closer? How long before Sora finally figured it out, that he had Riku fantasizing about paopu fruits and adventures together and fairy tale endings? And yet, one glance at Sora’s hopeful, bright blue eyes was all it took for Riku to know he’d already lost. Riku would be just about anything,  _ do  _ just about anything, if it meant Sora would smile. If Sora needed him… 

There was no way Riku could say no. 

“Yeah,” Riku agreed, nodding way more assuredly than he felt, “Your guess is as good as mine. We might as well try it.” He hoped he sounded calmer than his heart was — it pounded in his chest like he’d just confessed. 

But Sora’s beaming, relieved smile melted Riku’s worries away. “Yeah! It's a deal, then.”  

Sora scrambled up off the bed, surveying the damage with sudden enthusiasm. It was dizzying just how fast Sora rebounded back to sunshine. “We should really clean this up before Donald or Goofy sees,” he said, like they’d just gotten carried away in play, “and we should hurry; people are gonna wonder where we are if we skip breakfast.” 

“Hah,” Riku said, unable to stop the lopsided smile forming as he watched Sora manually pick up little stuffed animals and other figurines from the floor.  _ Well, that settled that, then, _ Riku thought. “Here.” With a whispered spell and a flick of Riku’s wrist like a musical conductor, the objects on the floor rose into the air. Sora gasped and gazed above him in wonder as everything floated idly for a moment before soaring into  its designated spots perfectly. 

Sora’s amazed, sparkling eyes when he turned to stare at Riku was pure art. Riku smirked back. “That was amazing, Riku! Where’d you learn that?” 

“The King,” he said, like he was commenting on the weather or stating the sky was blue.  

Sora rushed over and grabbed Riku’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go! You  _ gotta _ teach me that in training today!” 

“W-wait,” Riku said, unable to stop himself from being dragged along, “let me put on my shirt first!” 

* * *

“So…” Sora said, standing shyly in front of his bed. He played with the unruly locks of hair behind his head idly, chewing on his bottom lip. 

Riku forcefully averted his gaze from Sora’s lips to the bed that he stared at. “Let me just… move my bed in here,” Riku decided. Stiffly, he turned toward the door, but Sora replied uncertainly, “Err… I don’t think it’ll fit, Ri.” Riku tried very hard to ignore the childhood nickname. “These rooms are pretty tiny.” 

Gazing about the room, Riku conceded Sora was right. The only way a second bed would fit  was if all the other furniture were removed, but that was impractical. He returned to Sora’s side, crossing his arms as he thought. Maybe they should just call the whole thing off?   

Sora jumped onto his bed with a small, “hup!” and leaned back to rest on one of his hands. His other patted the spot next to him. “Well, it’ll be fine right? We’ve like, done this before, so it’s no biggie.”  _ Yeah _ , Riku thought,  _ did this  _ years _ ago _ . It was obvious Sora was putting up a front, because he was blushing and couldn’t keep eye contact. 

Riku sighed, smiling in spite of himself — could he really do this? “Are you sure about this?” he asked Sora instead, feeling his own blush on his face.  

“Err… yeah! ‘S long as you are,” Sora said, that award-winning, lopsided smile on his face again. Despite his obvious nervousness, he didn’t look unsure. 

Like always, Riku caved as soon as he saw that grin — and besides, they didn’t have other options. He sighed again before sitting next to Sora where he had  patted . “I just hope it helps,” Riku said sincerely. He wanted Sora to be able to rest peacefully. And if he were completely honest, maybe Sora was right — he  _ was _ tired. He  had  felt it at practice today; his arms were sore, his swings were slower and weaker, and his magic was just pathetic. An exhaustion from endless nights of fighting had finally caught up to him, so if anything, he owed Sora thanks for finding out when he did. 

“Me too,” Sora replied, finish ing with a laugh. He looked at his lap, where he was playing with his fingers. They sat side by side awkwardly — or rather, Riku felt awkward. He didn’t know what to do now. He hadn’t even changed  into pajamas, but he didn’t want to right  _ here. _

So caught up in the silence of the room, Riku didn’t notice how Sora kept glancing between his hands and Riku. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Sora said, slowly, “Hey, Riku… d’you remember when we used to spar every day? Back home?” 

“Yeah,” Riku replied, too quickly, “err… why?”  

Their eyes met, and Sora leaned back, falling onto the mattress with a soft  _ oof.  _ He stared up at the ceiling and continued, “I… keep having this dream. It’s always after a bad nightmare, but it ends the same.” Riku stared at Sora with bated breath, but Sora didn’t notice, talking with hands that waved in the air as he always did when he struggled to convey what he was thinking. “It’s always us, just, like, fighting — not  _ fighting _ fighting, but, like we used to by the Paopu tree — though we have our Keyblades.” He paused. Inexplicably, Sora was blushing. “It’s uh…” he started, then ended in a mutter, “it’s nice.” 

Sora looked so  _ vulnerable _ — lips in a near pout, eyes pointed away, hands behind his head. It was how he always  lay  in the sand back on the islands, next to Riku. Then, it wasn’t a big deal to  lie  side by side. It wasn’t a big deal to hold hands.  _ When had that changed? _ Riku wondered with a frown, leaning back until he was next to Sora, laying his hands on his stomach. Looking up at the ceiling reminded him  of  when they used to stare up at the endless night sky, counting each star and hypothesizing what kind of World it was. “I miss it, too.” His own voice surprised him — it came from the heart and not his head. Already, Riku was slipping up. 

“You do?” Sora said, and Riku could hear the smile in his voice, warm and sweet like vanilla. When Riku turned his head to look, Sora was staring right back at him, eyes wide and practically sparkling. It made Riku’s insides feel like goo. 

“Well, yeah,” Riku said, embarrassingly breathless. 

But Sora didn’t notice, grabbing Riku’s arm. “Then, tomorrow! You and me,” he exclaimed, “Promise I won’t hold back this time.” 

There was more to ‘ _ this time’ _ than Sora was letting on, but Riku didn’t want to kill this moment; didn’t want to pop the small but precious bubble they’d created just for the two of them. “Ooh, someone’s confident,” Riku taunted, smiling back. When Sora kept his eager, determined stare, Riku added, “Fine, you’re on.”  

“Then we need to go to bed  _ now _ so you’re not tired!” Sora declared, scrambling up. Pulling Riku’s arm along with him, he crawled up to the head of the bed and kicked up the blanket. Riku barely had time to protest or ask questions before Sora had slid under the sheets and tugged Riku down with him. Once he was there, though, his self-conscious objections melted away. Though the bed was tiny, and there was no possible way to  lie  side by side and not touch, Riku felt like he finally had room to breathe. 

Sora yawned and Riku felt the exhaustion settle on him like a boulder —  _ let _ himself feel the aches in his muscles and bones. He fought a responding yawn but lost. Sora laughed tiredly at him as he pulled the blanket over his shoulder. “See, you're tired.” 

“So are you,” Riku instinctively quipped. His body betrayed him, and he yawned again, earning him a fond eye roll from Sora.  

They were quiet for a moment — Riku struggled to keep his eyes open.  

“Hey…” Sora said, gently like he’d been deep in thought, “thanks for… staying.” 

“‘Course,” Riku breathed, barely present. Sora was looking just as sleepy, though he had a dumb grin on his face.  

“Night, Ri.” 

“Night, Sora.” 

* * *

Morning came, and they woke up in the same position as the morning before; their legs intertwined, Sora curled against Riku’s side, and a small but gross puddle of drool on Riku’s chest. There were a couple new additions to note: Riku’s arm didn’t feel dead and his other was draped casually across Sora’s side. Their eyes opened simultaneously, their realization and gasp and violent twitch identical — and then their “Sorry!” exclamations, and then, they paused.  They  broke into laughter, airy and equally directed at themselves and each other. Riku felt the heat in the ears as he drew his hovering hand away to comb through his bed-head, but Sora just kept laughing, quiet like it was a secret but blissfully like nothing in all the Worlds was wrong.  

And that was that. Days turned into weeks, every morning the same wonderfully torturous entanglement of limbs, but the darkness ceased to steal Sora’s nightmares and take over. 

They were, arguably, the best weeks of Riku’s life. 

What was once mere minutes in battle together, or a passing in the hall, or standing side by side silently during a conference with Master Yen Sid was replaced with  _ hours _ during the night that he had to talk to Sora. He looked forward to going to bed every night just for that alone. At first, it was Sora’s chatter filling the awkward silence that hung between them, but in no time at all, they were like how they used to be. They stayed up later than even Riku had calming Sora some nights. Sometimes it was recounting their adventures (”the  _ full _ story, Riku — you never told me where you were when—”), sometimes it was planning what they’d do when all this was all over, and sometimes it was just talking about nothing at all, like who could eat the most sea salt ice creams in succession, or why Twilight Town’s sun never set. Riku liked those nights the most. 

The change was like night and day, and unsurprisingly didn’t escape the notice of the others in the Tower. “Well, aren’t you two just peas in a pod. Well, you were before, but…” Lea said, about a week into their arrangement. “What are you two laughing at? Ugh, it’s just like at home,” was Kairi’s  fond comment , not too long after. Even Goofy and Donald had their fair share of teasing — “wish Sora fought this hard with  _ us _ not just  _ Riku, _ ” and other things that made Sora blush and sputter cutely. Riku’s understanding of Donald was limited at best, so all he knew was that he should feel mildly embarrassed. Even Yen Sid seemed to be in on it, saying off-handedly, “Unfortunately, you and Sora can’t be together this mission,” with a sparkle of mirth in his eyes. Riku was starting to think they all had the wrong idea. 

But maybe they didn’t — at least, for Riku. Little by little, all the knots Riku had tied to keep himself in check, to hide, came undone as simple as pulling a ribbon. When Sora and Riku’s eyes met, Riku didn’t look away, but instead smiled, basking in Sora’s returning grin. Sora had always been affectionate, offering hugs for nothing and giving light hand touches in passing. Even though Riku knew it helped Sora ground himself and reassure himself everyone was physically  _ there _ , Riku used to flinch away anyway, like it burned. But now, he reciprocated it in little things; a hand on his side when Sora tried to reach up to the super high cupboard, or a hair tousle as Riku passed by. Sora always rewarded him with a glowing grin that left Riku feeling weak and breathless, and so despite all his mental warnings, Riku just couldn’t stop after he’d started. 

But the worst, and yet best part, was their sparring practice with Lea and Kairi. Though Sora had only challenged Riku once, it became a recurring thing. Sora played fair, unlike Anti-Sora, as they’d come to call his dark slumbering form — and as much as Riku critiqued him for it (“The Organization won’t be so nice, Sora!”), Riku felt more and more at home every time their Keyblades met. Kairi said their fights looked more like a coordinated dance. 

Riku was right that, if Sora really got into it, he could knock Riku down flat. The worst and best part of  _ that _ was Sora’s gloating, how he’d dip down  _ way too close  _ to Riku’s face and sing, “I win!” Sora always looked down, and then up, then reeled back sheepishly. Instead of clasping hands to pull Riku up, Sora intertwined their fingers, lingering together even after they were both standing. It made losing so much more than worth it. It was moments like that that Riku knew something significant had changed, but he was too happy, too out of breath, and too sweaty to give it another thought, lest the burgeoning hope run away with him in tow.  

_ Things never stay good for long _ , his mind began to whisper, as the weeks dragged on and their bubble of happiness just seemed to keep expanding. They’d quickly crossed the line from what they were before Riku fell to darkness to something new. When would Sora stop them? And as for Anti-Sora — did his disappearance mean that Sora didn’t need him anymore? Would he end their sleepovers? Yen Sid had already mentioned that soon they'd be given new quests that would keep them busy for a long time — months maybe. The likelihood they’d be together on their new adventure was slim. The future was uncertain. It all made his heart feel squeezed, but he couldn't bring himself to even consider being the first one to walk away. All he could do it enjoy it while it lasted. 

And it did, for a while. 

* * *

“Hey, Riku… d’you think we’ll be… separated again?” Sora asked, careful and unsure in the dark as they cuddled together on Sora’s bed. “Like… when Master Yen Sid sends us out?” 

The question surprised him; Riku was nearly asleep already, but his consciousness came crashing back down and he felt his weight in the mattress and Sora’s warmth on his side like a burning flame. Sora was still, too still, for a question they both knew the answer to. Sora was hiding something, but Riku had no idea what it was. 

“It’s… a possibility. Not one I like, but…” He hesitated and glanced at Sora; his eyes stared not at Riku, but at his chest, unwaveringly, face somber and blank like even blinking might make him crack. It was all Riku needed to continue,  reassuring him , “But, even if we are apart for a while, it wouldn’t be forever. I wouldn’t let—I mean, we’ll always find each other again.”  

Maybe all he said was what  _ Riku  _ wanted to hear, to believe, but it was what he clung to, regardless. Sora didn’t seem satisfied, but he nodded, brows knit together in thought. Riku simply wished he knew what Sora was thinking – what  had  brought this up. But instead,  what  he asked was, “Are you worried?” 

Sora recoiled a little at the question, his hand on Riku’s chest clenching briefly. “It’s...” he started, then held his breath for a moment. He relaxed but it felt forced. “No, you’re right,” he settled on, meeting Riku’s eyes with a tentative smile, “Thanks, Riku.” 

Riku shook his head, smiling fondly, but concern still whispered in the back of his mind. “Dork, I didn’t do anything,” he said. 

“Yeah, you did!” Sora argued, drawing closer to Riku’s face. Riku struggled to keep his eyes leveled with Sora’s as Sora continued, “You’re always looking out for me. Even when  it’s ...” He looked away again, down to his clenched hands on Riku’s chest, “not fair to you.”  

Riku tilted his head, confused. “Sora... you’re always looking out for me, too,” he argued, memories of darker times floating through his mind, “and besides, you’re not a burden to me. Ever.” 

Sora inhaled like he was going to argue, but after Riku’s second statement, he stopped. Riku felt a little self-conscious, but he tried to shake it off as he watched Sora slowly process what he had said. At least it made Sora smile again, though it was small – like he knew he wouldn’t be able to argue, because Riku’s mind was set. He settled back into Riku’s arms, clinging a little closer than usual. Riku hoped Sora didn’t notice his pounding heart. He thought he’d be used to this by now, the touching and snuggling, but it still made his heart and stomach do somersaults. 

Sora didn’t reply for a few minutes. Just when Riku thought he must have fallen asleep, he murmured, “Goodnight, Ri... and thanks.” 

“No worries,” Riku murmured back. He felt like he’d missed something important but didn’t know how to ask about it. “Night.” 

It took a long time to fall asleep after that, Sora’s words and body language replaying over and over in Riku’s mind. What rocked him to sleep in the end was Sora’s constant little snores, a reassurance that everything was okay. 

But it wasn’t. 

Riku didn’t know if he had been asleep for 5 minutes or 5 hours – it didn’t matter. The burn  _ roared  _ to life across his back, ripping him from sleep like a punch to the face. He gasped, eyes snapping open, and then felt the fire across his side. 

It was no fire. It was Sora, or rather, Anti-Sora, clinging to Riku as darkness emanated from his body like a thick mist. His yellow eyes bored into Riku’s confused, pained, half-awake gaze, but under them, Sora’s true eyes were closed. But he didn’t have an expression of peaceful slumber; tears were streaming down either side of his cheeks while his mouth hung open in a silent scream. His hands-turned-dark-claws dug extra hard into Riku’s side — like… like he didn’t want to let go. 

“S-Sora—”  

As soon as Riku spoke, Anti-Sora flung himself away faster than Riku could blink. Whiplashed, Riku could barely keep track of him as he flitted around the room, especially in the dark. Flinging the sheets off and standing, Riku blinked rapidly to track the bright streaks of yellow across the room. Destruction was left in Anti-Sora’s wake, all his trinkets gathered from his many world-hopping adventures sailing off his desk and dresser, and his chair and desk shaking from the force of his passage. Sora stopped when he was in the farthest corner of the room away from Riku, scratching and kicking the wall behind him like he could possibly melt  _ into  _ it. Riku squinted in confusion.  

Riku knew it was just Anti-Sora and not the real Sora… but the rejection still stung, a little.  

Something was different— no,  _ wrong—  _ this time. Everything felt  _ heavy _ and  _ sad _ , from the air to the symbol on his back. Though he knew the emotions weren’t his own, Riku felt like he was on the verge of tears instead of choking down rage. But Riku didn’t know what to do other than what he always did: combat Anti-Sora until he could convince him to calm down. He approached cautiously, diving in to their old song and dance. 

Anti-Sora was desperate and irrational. He’d swipe at Riku, but then back away as if hurt, like a skittish dog wanting treats but scared of the hand that fed. Every movement Sora made was conflicted. Anti-Sora acted the same as when Riku  had  first encountered him, when the fear and confusion was so palpable Riku could literally taste it. Riku braced himself for a long night. 

A long, indeterminate, and frustrating amount of time later, Riku was finally able to at least get Sora into bed willingly, the darkness covering his body misty and undulating like it was unsure. Riku tentatively slid  onto  the bed next to him — trying to be slow so he didn’t startle Anti-Sora. Instead, Sora whined, and latched all four of his limbs onto Riku as soon as he got close enough. Riku almost fell over  from  being yanked so hard, Sora’s sharp claws digging into his arms.  

“I-it’s okay,” Riku soothed, adjusting himself to be more comfortable in Anti-Sora’s vice-like grip, “it’s okay, I’m here.” He wasn’t even sure if Anti-Sora was listening, or could listen. It  had  never seemed like he could before. But maybe it was the tone of his voice that was enough, because the darkness over Sora dimmed for a brief moment, like when a candle’s flame meets a soft breath. 

Sora made another noise — something in between a purr and a whine — and hooked his leg over Riku’s hips, pulling Riku even closer. Riku’s entire face heated, and he froze in place as Sora brought their bodies flush together.  _ This was Anti-Sora, not Sora _ , Riku reminded himself,  **_Anti-Sora_ ** . The two were connected, but not equivalent. Riku tried to mentally disconnect himself from Sora’s touch, like he had the first couple nights he  had  stayed in this room, as a defense mechanism. It was working just as well now as it did then; causing an all but full halt on any coherent thought. 

When Riku didn’t move, Anti-Sora growled, pawing at Riku’s back in frustration. Riku stared into those golden eyes, puzzled as to what Anti-Sora  _ wanted _ . Anti-Sora stared back, whined, and then nuzzled aggressively against Riku’s shoulder. 

Did he just… want Riku to hold him? 

He hesitated, watching Sora continue to prod at him in dissatisfaction. Normally, by now, Anti-Sora would have calmed and disappeared, but the longer they  lay  there the more agitated he seemed. It seemed reciprocating was the only way to appease him. 

Hesitantly, Riku wrapped his arm around Sora’s middle and held him tightly, but gently. The wafting darkness from Sora prickled on Riku’s skin but was otherwise not bothersome. He also pulled Sora’s other leg in between his, like how they normally woke up. Riku felt the blush in his cheeks again but was too determined to back down. 

The effect on Sora was immediate. Anti-Sora  _ melted _ into the touch, like a cat in the perfect sunny spot. His claws retracted from Riku’s back, and his nuzzling head stilled. Riku could feel Sora’s nose against his neck, but it wasn’t pressing. Sora made a purr-like sound, and Riku sighed in relief. 

It only took a minute for the darkness to slip away. Riku’s energy went with it, exhaustion settling as soon as he accepted that Sora was okay. Sora didn’t move aside from the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. Their position was comfortable enough, and Riku didn’t want to stir Sora after everything. He drifted back to sleep, his last thoughts deliberating what he should tell Sora about what had happened — when he didn’t even have the energy to decide for  _ himself _ what had really happened — and how utterly blissful and tormenting it was to have Sora’s little snores floating across his neck. 

It didn’t last long. 

The next time Riku opened his eyes, the room was still dark, but Sora was no longer in his arms. Panic  struck  him like a wet blanket — had Sora slipped into his anti-self again? Had he escaped the room? Riku didn’t smell the darkness as he normally did. Had Sora—  

That was when he heard sniffling right beside him. Riku turned  towards  the sound, expecting darkness and golden orbs, but halted as if struck as soon as he saw him. There was no darkness, no ferocious claws or burning skin or angry waves. It was just Sora, staring up at Riku in surprise, his eyes red and wet. He had been crying. 

That was. New. 

Somehow, this frightened Riku more than Anti-Sora ever did. Riku felt the air catch in his throat before he settled back down on his side facing Sora, a pit forming in his stomach. “Sora, what’s wrong?” He wanted to reach out, pull him close again, but instead he hovered his hand forlornly above the bed space between them. His eyes never once left Sora’s face, searching those bright, watery blue eyes as if they had all the answers. 

Inexplicably, Sora’s eyes welled with more tears and he choked on a sob. It sent an unpleasant, hair-raising chill across Riku’s skin. Riku couldn’t help it, he reached out and cupped Sora’s side. “Hey, hey,” he said, rubbing small circles with his thumb where he touched, “it’s okay. It’s okay.” Tears fell down Sora’s cheeks and plummeted to the sheet below them as Sora breathed heavily, fighting his sobs.  

“I’m sorry,” Sora choked out, rubbing his eyes with his palms. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, Sora,” Riku said, concerned and near-panicked that Sora was so distraught, “it’s okay. I promise.” He waited patiently as Sora tried to pull himself together but struggled through rushed, quiet apologies. The tears just kept falling, some slipping into the locks of Sora’s hair that were stuck to his face from sleep. Riku brushed them away from his face gently, continuing, “You know you can tell me anything, right? No matter what it is.”  

Sora hiccupped as he inhaled roughly, then held the air captive in his lungs as if to tame it. He eventually nodded slowly. “I… I know,” Sora said, hoarsely like it was ripped out of him. He wore a strange, sad smile. Finally meeting Riku’s worried gaze, the smile slipped away as fast as it had appeared. “I’m— I’m so sorry, Riku, that I became that  _ thing,” _ he spat, “and I—I  _ hurt _ you again.” Tears gathered up in his eyes again, but he blinked them away.  

Riku had nearly forgotten Anti-Sora  had  appeared in the wake of Sora crying. “Sora— its fine, you don’t have to apologize,” Riku said sincerely, “I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me.” 

Sora shook his head. “But we were doing so good! I thought it was over but I—” He bit his lip. “I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault.” Their eye contact broke and Sora stared down at the sheets, hiding his face. 

Riku didn’t understand. “Sora, it’s not your fault… You can’t control when this happens.” Riku  _ knew _ from the  _ lifetime _ of friendship with Sora that Sora would never want to hurt Riku, would never intend to slip into a darkened state like that. How could he possibly be blaming himself? 

Sora finally looked up, but he looked ready to break again, tears threatening to fall and lip trembling. “It's my fault,” Sora replied, despondent guilt lining every syllable, “because I can’t control my feelings.”  

Riku just stared back, utterly lost. Sora roughly wiped his face again, trying to find the words. “This… this whole time, I've been so  _ happy _ , because we’re finally together again and talking and hanging out but it’s— it’s because of anti-me. But I stopped transforming and I— I didn’t want us to grow apart again.” His voice broke but he plowed through it. “But then I thought, what if it didn't stop, and what if you got… tired of it? Tired of me?”  

Quickly Sora went from barely composed to spiraling. “And I know it doesn’t make sense but all I can think about is  _ you,  _ all I want is to be with  _ you _ , and I thought — I thought I could handle this on my own, so we could stay best friends, but then you started staying with me and it made me so happy I didn't— I  _ don’t—  _  want to give it up.” He finally took a breath, slowing down. He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration, making his bed head worse. “But it’s not fair to you. No matter what I do, I’m either hurting you or I’m forcing you to stay. It’s not right,” he ended, mournfully. He curled his arms to his chest as if he could make himself smaller, could disappear into the mattress or melt into the wall behind him like Anti-Sora  had  tried to do not even hours before. 

“Sora…” Riku could hardly process what he  had  heard. There was so  _ much.  _ Like seeing his life flash before his eyes, what Sora said replayed at Mach speed in his mind. Everything fell into place in the most beautiful, but painful way. He could barely  _ believe _ that all this time, Sora had been scared of  _ losing Riku _ . The fear, the possessiveness, the loneliness, and the rage that Riku  had  felt from Anti-Sora since the test ended  _ all _ stemmed from Sora. The two were linked more than Riku  had  ever imagined. 

And yet, all the while, Riku’s greatest, most desperate fear was the exact same as Sora’s.  _ They felt the same way _ . 

As if possessed, Riku grabbed Sora’s trembling hands, interlocking their fingers with no resistance. “Sora, there’s  _ nothing _ , literally,  _ nothing _ that could make me tired of you,” he said, saying too much and yet not enough. He squeezed their hands, watching in relief as Sora’s eyes widened. “I stayed because I wanted to, Sora. You didn’t make me.” 

Sora sniffed, watching Riku like he hung on every word. Riku’s heart, the fickle, treacherous thing, was beating too hard again. “But… why? I hurt you,” Sora weakly protested.  

The words were on the tip of Riku’s tongue, practically attempting to puke themselves out. “Because I’d do anything for you. Because you’re what’s  _ most _ important to me — and I was scared of losing what we had, too.” He couldn’t keep eye contact, no matter how beautiful and entrancing Sora’s eyes were, even after crying. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t need me anymore, after this.” Riku laughed, even though it wasn't funny. 

Sora sniffed again. “You— you dummy!” Riku yanked his gaze back up. Sora was smiling, blinking back tears that didn't seem sad. “Even if I don't  _ need _ you, I always  _ want _ you,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes shone in sincerity, and his cheeks were brushed with pink. Riku wasn't sure if it was from the crying or something else. 

“I'm sorry,” Riku said in reflex, because Sora was making Riku’s head spin with words he'd never thought he'd hear. It was Sora’s turn to squeeze their interlocked hands before breaking one away, drawing closer to Riku until his hand rested on Riku’s pillow. 

Riku was still hung up on “I always want you,” unable to stop himself from letting it ricochet like a song around his head and settle in his heart like a promise. Not even Namine could make him forget.  

“I want… to be more than we were, on the Islands,” Sora whispered. When had he gotten so close? Riku could feel the heat of his torso through the sheets, the air around them shortened. Their hands were squeezed between them yet neither tried to let go. Riku was completely entranced, waiting and willing for whatever Sora planned next.  

“Me too,” he breathed, feeling light again. 

“Can I kiss you, then?” Sora finally asked, when there was barely room to turn back as it was, maybe an inch between their faces. This time, Riku let himself look past Sora’s round, sloped nose to his lips, supple and parted in waiting. This was happening. 

“ _ Yes _ .”  

Sora’s hand reached up and grazed Riku’s jaw with his fingertips. It wasn’t even a pull but Riku was drawn in anyway, closing that small gap between them.  

Riku thought that first kisses were always soft, brief things — so light they could float away in the wind. But Sora’s light was more like a flame— insistent, warm, and all-encompassing. As soon as their lips touched, Sora pushing himself closer until Riku could feel his entire body up against his. It sent a shiver through every nerve, and totally disconnected Riku from his normal restraint. Riku released their hands and pressed his against the small of Sora’s back, keeping him there for the simple joy that he could.  

But even with Sora’s warmth causing Riku’s nerves to go haywire, Riku could still feel Sora’s lips on his. They were a little chapped from lip-biting and neglect, but still so  _ Sora _ it was nothing but bliss. Riku never thought he’d see Sora so close; get to admire his long eyelashes, the dust of pink on his cheeks. They couldn't stay that way for long though, because Sora couldn't breathe with his nose stopped up from crying. Sora was at least reluctant to part from him, eyes fluttering slowly open as he left. 

The smile that grew on Sora’s face seemed to light up the whole room and fill Riku’s whole heart. And then Sora laughed, a giddy giggle like wind chimes. Riku couldn't help but smile back, in awe and basking that Sora could be this happy with  _ him. _

In between another laughing fit, Sora dipped in and kissed Riku again. It ended in a gleeful laugh before he did it again. And again. It was all Riku could do to hold on and not pass out from breathlessness, or pull Sora in and keep him there — kiss Sora all over his gorgeous face until he was sick of it, and then again just for good measure. Riku began following Sora’s lips when he pulled back, earning him a smile and giggling in the kiss.  

“You’re a sap,” Riku said when Sora managed to get away, though it was made possible due to his laughter rather than intent.  

The sparkle of mirth in Sora’s eyes was back, a kaleidoscope of blue Riku would never tire of turning. While Riku was drowning in it, Sora tilted his head. “Yeah, but you like it.” 

“Yeah,” Riku admitted, wholeheartedly, because now he didn't have to hide it.  

“Ha.” Sora grinned cheekily. They stared at each other, the silence still full and warm as reality settled. Riku vaguely wondered what time it was — and dreaded morning because it meant he’d have to let Sora out of his arms. 

“Hey…” Sora said, settling his head on his pillow, “You think… anti-me will come back?” 

Riku followed suit, but kept his arm around Sora’s middle. “…Maybe, eventually,” Riku replied, “but it doesn’t matter. No matter where you are, I’ll come find you.”  

“Hnn,” Sora exhaled happily, “Now who’s the sap?” Riku rolled his eyes. “You can’t even promise that,” Sora chastised, but the grin never left his face.  

Riku shrugged, grinning back. Sora  might be right, but he meant it regardless. With their heads on the pillow, Riku was starting to feel the exhaustion of the night catch up to him, but it was a satisfied fatigue; his whole body felt light, like he could do anything as long as Sora was by his side. Sora shook his head, but  said in return , “Same to you.” 

“Hmm?”  

“Just say my name, and I’ll be there,” Sora said, both cheesy and sincere at the same time. When they were together, it was so easy to forget that they were constantly on the front lines, but for the briefest moment, Riku saw it in Sora’s eyes, the absolute resolve to do whatever was necessary for his friends — and for Riku. 

Riku’s instinct to say, “ _ you can’t promise that _ ,” died, and instead, he replied, “I’m gonna hold you to that.”  

“Good.” Sora scooted closer to rest on Riku’s shoulder. It was part of their routine, but it was different now, in a wonderful, precious way that made Riku feel like it was the first night all over again. Sora smiled cheekily as he settled, but right before he laid his head down, he placed a kiss under Riku’s chin. Riku instinctively wrapped his arm around Sora tighter, grateful that Sora couldn’t see the helpless grin on his face. 

“We should— we should go to bed,” Riku said, though it was obvious that  was exactly what they were doing. 

“Mhmm,” Sora agreed with some amusement. He sighed happily, his body melting in his warm spot in Riku’s arms. “Night, Ri.” 

“Goodnight, Sora.” 

Within minutes, Riku slipped into sleep, feeling like an itch had been scratched. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was largely inspired by Keebatiger's art on Twitter, Llien's fic blood + tissue, and various dreameater headcanons floating around Twitter! 
> 
> Huge shout out to Llien, Voxiferous, and AmbitiousSkychild for beta-ing for me! Y'all the real mvps TToTT
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it :) I love how this was intended to be a little oneshot and... yeah. If you wanna be friends, my twitter is KaiserinAstraia and kaiserin-astraia on tumblr! KH3 couldn't keep THIS soriku stan down.


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